


Five Times It Didn’t Count as Steve and Phil’s First Kiss, and One Time it Totally, Completely, 100% Did.

by abstractconcept



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Capsicoul - Freeform, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 13:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt (and Summary, really):</b> A ‘Five Times’ fic - I like the idea that one of them revives the other with CPR, and then Tony slaps Steve on the shoulder and says “Don't worry, Cap. It doesn't count as your first kiss if it's CPR”, and then just five times they end up in a situation that ‘doesn't count’. Like, it doesn't count if it was a fuck-or-die scenario, or it doesn't count if you were drunk, or it doesn't count if it was for the good of the mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times It Didn’t Count as Steve and Phil’s First Kiss, and One Time it Totally, Completely, 100% Did.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Avengerkink round 7. 
> 
> **Beta:** Amenuensis, and it was SUCH a treat to get to work with her, btw!!!
> 
> There are also some hints of Tony/Bruce in this, but like Tony would say, they don't really count. ;)

****

Five Times It Didn’t Count as Steve and Phil’s First Kiss, and One Time it Totally, Completely, 100% Did.

“He’s not breathing!”

“Loosen his clothing!” 

Steve frantically tugged at the man’s tie and ripped his shirt open, panicked enough to send buttons clattering in all directions. 

“It’s not working—we need C.P.R. Cap, mouth-to-mouth,” Natasha ordered. “Everyone else back off and give us room.” The other Avengers complied. Steve knew that none of them wanted to lose Agent Coulson, especially after the scare with Loki. 

Steve pinched the man’s nose, bent and exhaled. Natasha started chest compressions. 

“Defib?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah,” Natasha grunted, and Tony knelt and gave the man a jolt. Coulson gasped. 

“He’s breathing!” Steve said, overjoyed. 

Tony ordered Jarvis to get them an ambulance. He’d barely finished his sentence before they heard the wail of the siren in the distance. 

Coulson blinked up at them, dazed and disheveled, his shirt undone, Steve Rogers hovering above him and grinning goofily. 

“Hey,” Steve said, cradling his head. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” 

“Cap?” Coulson managed.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t smile at me like that after giving me mouth-to-mouth, or you’ll just take my breath away all over again,” Coulson joked. 

Steve grew red, but his smile didn’t fade a bit. 

“Don’t worry, Cap.” Tony put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t count as a first kiss if it’s C.P.R. I pronounce you officially cootie-free.”

Steve frowned at him. 

Natasha let out a long breath. She patted the agent’s shoulder. “Agent Coulson, the next time some madman with a ray-gun shows up and starts wreaking havoc, you take the back seat,” she suggested. 

Phil Coulson smiled a wry little smile. “I can’t make you that promise.”

***

“So we ducked into a restaurant, and the guy _followed us in,_ ” Steve said. “I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what to do. I turned to Ph . . . Agent Coulson and told him we were dead in the water. There was no way he wasn’t going to know who I was. I was sure our cover was as good as blown.”

Pepper nodded and made interested noises, ignoring Tony as he demanded the waiter bring him another drink. She was dazzling in her gold lamé gown. Steve felt a little underdressed next to her and the tuxedoed Tony, but Phil had assured him he looked wonderful in his suit, and it was nice to get out and socialize. Dinner had been Tony’s idea, but Steve was happy to go along with it if it meant getting out of the apartment for a bit and _not_ being attacked by monsters or madmen. “What did you do?” Pepper said loudly, over Tony’s complaints and demands.

Coulson smiled. “I grabbed Ste—Captain Rogers by his tie and pulled him down into a kiss,” he said coolly. “Conveniently blocking the man’s view.”

Steve felt his face begin to burn. He took a quick sip of champagne to cover his embarrassment—hopefully everyone would think the flush was just from the alcohol. Phil Coulson had kissed Steve the way he conducted all his business—thoroughly and _well._ And the feeling of the man’s warm body pressed against Steve’s was not something Steve would soon forget. Heck, even the recollection of the firm grip on Steve’s tie was enough to make him squirm in his seat. 

Pepper laughed. “Didn’t you worry that would attract _more_ attention?” she asked. 

Coulson merely shrugged. “Not really. Most people are disposed to turn away from public displays of affection, whether out of discomfort or to give the perceived couple privacy. I knew it was our best bet.”

“Very smart,” Pepper said. 

“I’m lucky he’s such a quick thinker,” Steve admitted. 

Pepper patted Phil’s leg. “We’re all lucky.” 

“Don’t worry,” Tony said to Steve around a mouthful of cocktail shrimp. “Totally doesn’t count as a first kiss if you’re _forced_ to do it, and you’re undercover and all.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Pepper reprimanded. 

“What? I’m just saying Steve’s fine.”

“He _knows_ he’s fine. And you’re insulting Phil.”

“Phil nothing,” Tony replied. “Phil’s a professional; he knows exactly how all this works. Doesn’t count, right?” he asked the man. 

Phil smiled blandly. “I suppose not,” he said. 

“May I take your order?” the waiter said, shimmering over. 

“We’ll take one of everything,” Tony told him. “And two of anything that’s especially good.”

“Very good, sir.”

Pepper raised her glass. “To Phil Coulson,” she said. “May he always be fast on his feet.”

“And soft on the lips, right, Cap?” Tony joked. 

Steve kicked him under the table and Tony yelped. “To Agent Coulson,” Steve said, raising his glass as well.

Coulson accepted the praise with his usual equanimity. It was just one more thing Steve admired about the man.

***

“That hurt. That _really_ hurt,” Steve moaned. He was doubled over, forehead resting on the carpet, clutching his head and feeling like it might just shatter.

“I’m sorry. I’m—I’m _very_ sorry,” Coulson said. “It was the only way to stop you!”

“I know! I don’t blame you,” Steve assured him. Still, he thought he might throw up. He’d never had such a headache, not even back when he was a sickly kid and prone to getting them. 

“Wow, you really clocked him,” Tony remarked, looking on. He was standing over Loki, one metal foot planted in the middle of the prone demi-god’s back. “Poor old Cap. It was a really good punch, though. You have a mean right hook, you know, for a suit.”

Coulson ignored this. He knelt beside Steve and tentatively put a hand on his back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I’ve already got it covered,” Clint said, returning from the kitchen. He tossed the man a bag of ice. 

“Thanks,” Coulson replied. He rested the bag gently on the back of Steve’s head. “Wow. I never would have expected Loki to think he could get away with turning _you_ into his slave.”

Even the light pressure was enough to make Steve whimper. “How did you know?” he finally asked, looking up. 

“That you were under the influence of Loki’s staff?” Tony interjected. “Are you crazy? After you marched in here and grabbed Agent Coulson around the waist, told him you wanted to make love to him, and proceeded to try to feel all his fillings with your tongue? I _wonder_ how he guessed something was up,” Tony added sarcastically. 

Steve exchanged a pointed look with Coulson and after a moment, they both shrugged. 

“Yes. Um. And your eyes were all wrong. I’ve seen it before,” Coulson explained. 

Still holding the bag of ice to his head, Steve nodded. “Right.”

“Right. That and you don’t usually waltz in and announce that you’re going to fuck Agent Coulson,” Tony put in again, belaboring this as though it were a point that really needed to be driven home. Steve wished he would quit harping on it.

“Not when there’s an audience, at any rate,” Coulson deadpanned. 

“Ha ha, yeah,” Tony said. He actually seemed impressed by the man’s quick wit. “I can’t believe Loki thought he could use you to _seduce_ Coulson into getting the Tesseract back, though, Cap. Agent Coulson would never fall for something like that.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at Coulson, who blushed just faintly. “Of course not,” the man said after clearing his throat. “I am a professional. And I—did—you know—notice the eyes, after all.”

“Right,” Steve said with a smile. 

“Guess we’re just lucky Loki lost patience after you failed and tried to attack us himself.” Tony looked down at the demi-god and smirked. Loki was unconscious on the floor, and Tony gave him a none-too-gentle nudge with a metal foot. “Gave me the chance to play hero and wipe the floor with him, at any rate.”

“Hey, I helped,” Clint said. 

“Psh. All right, you _distracted_ him,” Tony replied. “Like that’s some big thing.”

“You would _not_ have gotten the drop on him without me,” Clint maintained. 

Coulson got to his feet and offered Steve a hand up. Steve tuned out the burgeoning argument and took the man’s hand.

“Thanks,” Steve said. He was feeling better already. “Really. Thanks. For everything. I’m glad you stopped me, even if it meant knocking me silly.

“Any time,” Coulson said with a smile.

***

“I love you, man.”

“Ugh. Tony, you _reek_ of whisky,” Steve protested, pushing him away. Tony slid to the floor. 

“I love all you guys. You guys. I _loooove_ you.” Tony lolled on the floor, grinning with drunken benevolence. He began pointing. “I love you. And you. And you, Fury, you beautiful bastard. And you even though you totally spied on me,” he said to Natasha, or at least in Natasha’s direction. “And Bruce. Brucey, I think I love you best of all.”

Bruce only laughed. He was the only other sober person at the party. “I love you too,” he assured the man. 

“Do you?” Tony asked seriously. “Like, you know, for realsies?”

“ _Yes,_ Tony. We all love you very much.” Bruce winked at Steve. 

“Help me get him into a seat,” Steve pleaded, taking Tony under his arms and hiking him up. “Jeez, I think you weigh more than you do with the suit on,” he told the man. 

“Steve, it’s _Christmas._ Joy to the world and . . . brotherhood of man. And also I’m drunk.” 

“What’s your point?” Steve said.

“I had a point? You just . . . you should loosen up,” Tony told him. “You should both loosen up,” he added as Bruce came over and helped Steve pick Tony up and put him in a chair. Natasha and Pepper were dancing with Clint, who was having the time of his life. Fury was at the bar with Maria Hill and was laughing uproariously at something. Everyone was having a great time. Tony knew how to throw a party. 

“Sorry, but this is about as loose as I get,” Steve said. Truth be told, he wished he could get a little looser, but alcohol did nothing for him, and he wasn’t good at social situations. 

“I love you anyway.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re awesome. You. Are. _Awesome_.”

“You are too, Tony.”

“You’re not as awesome as I am, but you’re pretty awesome.”

“Uh-huh.” Steve wished Tony would shut up. Bruce was no help; he was busy trying to pretend he wasn’t laughing.

“And Coulson thinks you’re a dreamboat,” Tony added. 

Steve blushed. “I see. Did he say that?”

“Well. Not. Not in so many whatcha call ’ems. Words. Not in so many words. But. He is _aaalways_ checking out your butt. Not that I blame him; it’s obviously something you put a lot of time and effort in. I mean, you frame it just—just so and all. But Coulson _definitely_ notices.”

“Thank you for that, Tony.”

“Put on some bump and grind music!” Clint called out. 

Steve expected the women to protest, but they hollered in agreement, and shortly Clint was being sort of bounced back and forth on the dance floor between Pepper and Natasha. Steve was fascinated, if a little horrified. It was like watching sex happen upright and with everyone’s clothes on. It was definitely nothing like dancing back in _his_ day. 

“Will you guys be all right for a minute?”

Tony grinned. “No. I’m Agent Coulson and I’ll _pine_ if you leave me,” he joked, latching onto Steve’s arm. 

Steve pried him loose. “Okay, I’m going to use the restroom,” he said. “Just . . . try not to let him burn anything down or have intercourse with inanimate objects or anything,” he instructed Bruce. 

Bruce laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

They’d be fine; the door to the bathroom was only a few feet away, after all. But right as he went to walk in, someone else came out and they collided. Steve grabbed the other man to make sure he didn’t fall over—Steve knew walking into him was like walking into a brick wall. 

“Oops! Sorry,” Steve said. 

“Oh—no, my fault,” Coulson told him, flustered. He smiled when he realized Steve still had his arms around him. “Hey. Hi. Um. You look really nice tonight, by the way.”

“Oh. Oh, thanks,” Steve said. Heat crept up his neck. “You look nice as well,” he said meekly. 

“Ha ha, well. Um. Sorry again for walking into you.”

“No problem.”

“You guys! Steve!” Steve froze at the sound of Tony’s voice. “Steve! You guys are _under the mistletoe!_ ” Tony’s laugh was maniacal. “You have to kiss!” Steve glanced up and saw the evil little sprig dangling from the doorframe with malice and glee. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Tony chanted.

“Awwww, time for some mistletoe _action!_ ” Nick Fury crowed. _Damn._ Tony wasn’t the only one who’d noticed their defenseless position. “What are you two waiting for? I _order_ you to kiss him, Phil! It’s Christmas! Don’t make a mockery out of this holy day! Or this—this what-the-fuck ever! Tradition. This fine tradition. Go on, Phil; this is your big chance!” Steve’s face was hot. The combination of alcohol, revelry and insane coworkers had even gotten to Director Fury, apparently.

The poisonous look Coulson shot Fury confirmed that he was just as uncomfortable as Steve. “Sorry about this,” he muttered. 

“It’s okay,” Steve assured him. He did hate everyone staring, but the idea of kissing Phil didn’t bother him at all. He wished he knew some way to convey that. 

Coulson put his hands on Steve’s shoulders, then rose on his tiptoes to briefly press a kiss to Steve’s mouth. Despite the fact that it barely lasted a second, Steve felt a rush of excitement, and the whole room began to whoop. 

“Merry Christmas, Captain,” Phil said when they broke apart. 

Steve grinned at him. “Merry Christmas,” he replied. 

“It’s okay, Cap!” Tony shouted. “It doesn’t count when there’s mistletoe and Director Fury’s ordering you!”

Steve gave Phil’s shoulder a squeeze before scooting past him into the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, he eyed his pink cheeks and crooked smile. Could be worse. The whole thing had been a little embarrassing, but not too bad. 

And the peppermint Schnapps on Phil’s breath was a world better than the whisky on Tony’s.

***

“Oh, my God, it’s so cold,” Natasha breathed. She hugged herself tightly.

“Really cold,” Tony agreed through chattering teeth. He continued to work on the arm of his suit, which was in pieces.

“A fine, brisk day,” Thor put in. Everyone glared at him.

“New rule; only Thor gets to fight supervillains who can teleport us to the north pole,” Tony suggested. 

“Good rule,” Steve agreed. He was most worried about Phil and Natasha. The super serum meant that Steve healed frostbite almost as soon as he got it, Tony’s suit was damaged, but repairable, Thor was obviously fine, and the Hulk was probably immune to the weather, but the regular humans were vulnerable, and Steve ached for them. 

“We’re going to die,” Natasha pointed out. 

“We can . . . conserve body heat. Come on. Everybody,” Bruce said. “Huddle up.”

Steve tried to make sure Phil and Natasha were in the middle of the pack. Even Thor threw his giant arms around everyone. “Too tight,” Tony choked.

“Apologies,” Thor said. He backed off, but the Avengers still clung pretty tightly to each other. 

Tony had one arm around Natasha, and one around Bruce. “I’ll make some dirty jokes and keep everyone warm,” he offered. 

“Pass.”

“I hope Barton and Fury get us back quickly,” Phil muttered. 

“They’ve got access to all my best tech!” Tony said. “I’m surprised they haven’t managed it already.”

“Or blown up New York,” Natasha said. 

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” Steve told her. He had his entire body pressed against Coulson’s, and he hoped the man didn’t notice he was starting to get aroused. Even in the punishing arctic cold, his body was responding quite favorably to having someone in his arms. 

Coulson gave him a crooked smile.

 _So much for hoping he wouldn’t notice,_ Steve thought, feeling deeply self-conscious. He hated the fact that he couldn’t control himself in public. “Sorry,” he grunted. 

“Extreme conditions provoke atypical reactions,” Coulson said. He even managed to keep a straight face. 

“If you feel me up, Stark, I will chop your hand off and have it mounted as a trophy,” Natasha growled. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll just feel Bruce up, then. What? We don’t want him Hulking out now. It totally doesn’t count when we’re just doing it to conserve body heat. Right?”

“Right,” Bruce grunted. Steve could barely make out his curly head buried against Tony’s shoulder. He could, however, see Tony snake a hand around and—

“Did you just put your hand in Bruce’s pocket?” Steve asked Tony, squinting. 

“Yeah, so? Bruce’s pocket is warm. Doesn’t count. Conserving body heat.”

“Doesn’t count?” Steve repeated. 

“Uh-huh.” Tony was way more interested in snuggling with Bruce and Natasha than he was in Steve. Coulson gave Steve a wink. _Well, what the hell,_ Steve thought. It didn’t count as a public display of affection if no one was looking. He squeezed Phil closer and kissed him. The only one who noticed was Thor, who politely looked away. Chances were that they had snowbound orgies all the time in Asgard, and this didn’t even seem slightly strange. 

The air crackled around them.

“What was that?” Natasha said. 

“Maybe we made the Earth move,” Phil grunted. 

Suddenly they were back in Tony’s lab. “Gotcha,” Fury said. He grinned. “I gotta say, Stark, you have some interesting shit in here. I like this transporter thing. Maybe you’ll buy me a real nice birthday present this year?” he suggested.

“I’ll bake you a cake. You don’t get to play with my toys unless we’re stranded in the arctic,” Tony told him, standing up and brushing himself off. “I mean it; if I see so much as a similar screw in one of S.H.I.E.LD.’s designs, I will make you very unhappy.”

“Don’t worry about your little gadgets,” Fury told him. “Learn how to take a compliment.”

“What happened to the teleporting demon we were fighting?” Natasha asked. 

Clint climbed in through a broken window. “I took care of it; don’t worry.” 

“ _You_ took care of it?” Tony repeated. “Alone?”

“Well, you helped a _little,_ ” Barton smiled sweetly. “You did distract him and all.”

Tony huffed. “Look, you guys,” he said, turning to the rest of the team. “There’s . . . no need to mention the whole, you know, cuddlepuddle to Pepper, right? We’re all in agreement on that? It didn’t count.”

“ _Cuddlepuddle?_ ” Fury repeated. “Now this I have _got_ to hear!”

“Ah-ah!” Tony held up a finger. “From now on it will be known as That Thing That Didn’t Happen, and we will never speak of it again. Didn’t happen, didn’t count.”

“It didn’t count,” Steve echoed, not looking at Agent Coulson.

But he had the feeling it sort of did.

***

Steve finished hanging up his new jacket. He liked it a lot. It was black wool, and long, and would keep him wonderfully warm in the weather they’d been having lately.

“Hey,” he heard someone say, and turned to find Phil Coulson standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he replied. “Are you moving in, too?”

“To Stark tower? No. I’m afraid there’s a limited amount of Stark I can take per day, and by ‘limited amount’ I mean less than half an hour, give or take,” Phil explained. 

“He’s not so bad,” Steve said, even though sometimes Tony really, really was.

Phil shrugged. “If you have a taser,” he conceded. He was wearing one of his dark expensive suits and had his hands jammed in the trouser pockets. Everything about him said ‘nonchalant’ except for the way he smiled, rather shyly, at Steve. 

“You want to come in?” Steve asked belatedly. 

“Just, I mean, if you’re not busy . . .”

“Not at all,” Steve assured him. “I was just, uh, settling in.” He’d finished unpacking all his stuff, and it barely took up any room in the huge suite. The whole place was more Tony’s style than Steve’s, modern and slick and built all out of scale—the bed was practically the size of a football field, for Pete’s sake—but Steve figured he’d put his own touch on it soon enough. 

But Coulson didn’t come in and take a seat. He just took another step forward, closing the door behind him with a click. 

Steve grinned at him, and Phil grinned back. For the first time in a long time, Phil Coulson was blushing, his usual bravado and composure gone, leaving a very real, very vulnerable, almost breakable man. 

“Haven’t seen much of you lately,” Steve said. “I don’t think we’ve spent five minutes together since Tony Stark’s infamous Christmas party.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ve had five minutes peace since the Christmas Party. End of year reports are a bitch.” Phil rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you or avoid you or anything, I promise.”

Steve nodded. “I understand. It’s your job.” He knew what that was all about. 

“Right.”

They both stood that way for a long minute, nodding at each other in awkward silence. Steve rested at attention, an old habit. “So,” Steve said. 

“So,” Phil replied. 

And then he threw himself at Steve, who caught him with practiced ease. They kissed, mouths wet and hungry, and Phil reached back with one hand, sought for the lightswitch, and flicked it off before turning his attention back to Steve. 

Plunged into sudden darkness, Steve inhaled deeply. He was pretty sure he could smell just a hint of cologne on Coulson, but it could have just been the man’s own scent, something subtle and rich like wood and leather and something sweet all deftly interwoven. 

Phil’s mouth trailed away from Steve’s, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his ear, his lips warm and his breath whispery and silky and enough to make shivers chase each other up Steve’s back. 

Phil’s lips grazed Steve’s ear. “Missed you, Captain,” he whispered. 

“I missed you, too. And don’t call me Captain when we’re in bed,” Steve reminded him.

“We’re not _in_ bed,” Phil growled. 

“Not yet. And still . . . Steve, not Captain,” Steve corrected anyway. 

“. . . _Steve_ ,” Phil hissed. 

Steve thought he could have climaxed, right then and there, just from that. “That’s nice,” Steve murmured. “Do it again?”

Phil chuckled, just a soft noise. And then he moved his hands away from Steve’s hips, reached to cup his—Steve straightened in surprise, but this only pushed his . . . front area . . . against the agent’s. Even in his own head the word _penis_ embarrassed him.“You like that?” Phil asked. 

“Yes-please-I-like-that,” Steve blurted, nodding hard. He knew he was blushing furiously, but it was probably too dark for Phil to know the difference anyway.

Phil laughed again, a mad sort of laugh. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself for another moment,” he said. And then he _squeezed_ , just lightly. “Oh, _Steve_ ,” he whispered. “I missed those, too.” 

That was absolutely as much as Steve could take.

He pulled open Phil’s jacket. “Bed,” he said, hands scrambling. Tie. Had to undo that tie. And buttons; as always Phil had way too many buttons and then there were the trousers and, “Aw, do you really _need_ a belt, and a belt buckle and everything?” Steve complained. 

Phil only laughed. He undid his own belt while Steve whipped off his shirt and, in a moment of silly bravado, quite literally ripped off his own trousers. What was the point of having super strength if you didn’t use it for something fun once in a while, after all?

Phil didn’t seem to think it was silly anyway. He was staring at Steve with open longing. “I’d like a signed copy of _that_ , please,” he said with a sigh. He shook his head a little. “I’ll never get tired of the view.”

Steve grabbed the man and pulled the man into a nearly crushing embrace, his mouth searching blindly, needily, for Phil’s. He dragged him right over to the bed and lowered him to the mattress, and kissed him, hard, and rocked his body against Phil’s, and Phil rocked against him, too. It felt so good Phil was _so_ hard and that was only making Steve _harder_ , and he wasn’t going to be able to wait much more—

Then Phil broke the kiss, worked one leg between Steve’s, his thigh _right there_ , lean and hard and warm and _wow_. “It’s okay,” Phil whispered, nudging his leg closer, rubbing his thigh against Steve’s aching erection. 

Steve had no more thoughts left. He nodded dazedly, kissed Phil again, hungrily, and began to rut against him. Phil moaned, and somehow that drew out Steve’s voice, a _please_ and a _yes_ and a bit of _more_ in between kisses and nips and shaky breaths. 

“That’s it, yes,” Phil hissed. “Yes, _ride it.”_ And Phil was touching him, caressing him, his hands wandering in wonder all over Steve’s muscles, and it felt _too_ good, and all Steve could do was go with it, was rock against the man, desperate for more friction, more pressure, and then— _yes_. 

Steve stiffened. He came hard, a great rush of pleasure racing through him. He just held Phil tighter, closer, rutted just a bit harder, a moment longer. Phil moaned. Steve blinked a little at him. 

“You even _blink_ prettily,” Phil breathed. 

Steve laughed. 

“Kiss me again,” the man said. Steve obeyed, cheerful and dutiful like the good soldier he was. He reached down and cupped the man’s prick, feeling the hot strength of Phil’s erection pressing against him palm. Phil groaned into his mouth and ground himself against Steve’s hand. Lips and fingers curling ever so slightly, Steve pulled Phil’s prick, drawing muffled, helpless noises from the usually unruffleable agent. 

He felt warmth spurt into his hand and smiled against Phil’s mouth. “That was . . . pretty . . . you know. That was wow,” Steve mumbled. He looked at the man hopefully. 

“Yeah. It was. That was nice. It was . . . it was all good,” Phil assured him. He smile was a bit wobbly and tired, but his eyes starry. “It’s been way too long. We should do it again.”

Steve nodded, eager as a pup. “Yeah.” He cupped Phil’s face, leaned in, and kissed him once more. A softer kiss, this time. A lingering kiss. 

There was a hard rap on the door. “Yo, Steve,” he heard Tony say. To Steve’s horror, the door popped open before he could do more than squawk in protest. “We’re having beer downstairs and . . .” Tony trailed off. 

Steve froze. At least he and Phil were still pressed against each other, chest to chest with no . . . bits . . . in plain view, although Tony probably had a pretty good eyeful of Steve’s bare rear end. “Oh. Hi,” Steve said. He tried to be nonchalant, but he could feel that old blush starting up again, and right now he was pretty sure it would cover his entire body. He wondered if ankles could blush. His probably could. “Did you need something?” he asked. He glanced up at Phil, but Phil had already arranged his poker face. His middle name was Impassive, and he announced it with a side of ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re even talking about.’ Steve reached for a blanket and tugged it around their sweaty bodies. He wished he could control his expression like that. 

“. . . we . . . got . . . pizza,” Tony finished slowly. “But it looks like you have enough on your plate already,” he added with a smirk. 

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Phil immediately replied in a dry voice. 

Tony made a face. “Yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just so you know? I think that one totally, completely, one-hundred percent counts.”

Steve and Phil looked at each other. “Nah. I don’t think so,” Phil responded. He leered at Steve. “I’ll probably have to do it at least once more for it to really take.”

Steve grinned. “Once more? I’d say at least five more times,” he countered. 

“You two have—have fraternized before!” Tony said with sudden realization. He sounded scandalized, but Steve knew he was probably just teasing. 

“Pretty much all over the place,” Phil agreed. “I even fraternized him once in my office, but that we agreed that was unprofessional and that we shouldn’t do it again. We wanted to be discreet, but I suppose it was only a matter of time before you caught on. I mean, with you being a ‘genius’ and everything.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Tony said, turning away and shutting the door. 

“So. Five more times?” Steve asked Phil. 

“Just once tonight, though. We’ll make it count more in the morning,” Phil said, and kissed Steve again. 

This time, it really, really counted.


End file.
